


ten things i hate about you

by smoakoverwatch



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 10 Things I Hate About You (1999) Fusion, Alternate Universe - High School, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fluff, Kinda, Light Angst, So many AUs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-08
Updated: 2016-03-08
Packaged: 2018-05-25 00:42:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6173251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smoakoverwatch/pseuds/smoakoverwatch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I hate the way you talk to me, and the way you cut your hair"</p><p>Or, a look into ten moments of Oliver and Felicity in high school. Based loosely on the movie of the same name.</p>
            </blockquote>





	ten things i hate about you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [honorthedeadbyfighting](https://archiveofourown.org/users/honorthedeadbyfighting/gifts).



> A little birthday present for Adri, my favourite human being out there. Because, you’re awesome. This was supposed to be a proper enemies to lovers’ AU (which I know you love) but it kind of took a life of its own. Sorry about… whatever this is. I played with a different format than I’m used to, I hope it works.
> 
> Also, yes, I did take this speech almost exactly from the movie, just roll with it.
> 
> (*** I haven't checked to see if this kind of thing has been done before, if it has I'm really sorry)

**i. _I hate the way you talk to me, and the way you cut your hair_**

 

“Smoak!”

That voice.

The voice that’s been the bane of Felicity Smoak’s existence for years now feels as though it cuts into her bones as she is forced to pause in the hallway and take a deep breath.

She has to remind herself a little bit of patience will go a long way when dealing with Oliver Queen.

When she turns around, she’s met with the sight of the boy in question, half jogging towards her, blond hair flopping towards his eyes and an easy smile on his face. 

He stops in front of her and the feeling of dread increases inside of her as she notices his stupid grin widen. In her experience, it’s really never a good thing for her if he’s this happy. 

“Heya, Smoak, I’ve been trying to get your attention forever now. Thought you were ignoring me there.” He talks to her like they’re buddies, it mildly annoys her. 

“Did you now.” She says flatly. “Shame.” 

“Yeah!” he pushes his _stupidly_ floppy hair out of his face, and she’s grateful, because she was fighting the urge to push it away herself and _really what the hell is that about?_  

“Did you need something, Oliver?” she says, irritated after she realizes a moment has passed and all he’s done is smirk down at her. She knows he probably has something he wants to rub in her face. 

“Yeah, I did, actually!” He shifts to lean casually on the wall of lockers next to him. “I was talking to Waller just now, you want to know what about, Smoak?” 

“Not particularly but I’m sure you’ll share anyway.” She gives him a tight smile. 

“Well, she stopped me after class to congratulate me on writing the _best_ paper in the class.” His grin, somehow, becomes even more shit-eating and she’d like nothing more than to punch it off. 

(The news stings a little, but she’s hardly going to let him know) 

“Congratulations,” she bites out drily. “I’m sure you worked very hard.” 

He lets out one of those obnoxious ‘ _psh’_ sounds she hates. “Barely, I started that shit the night before.” 

“Okay then.” Felicity’s heard enough bragging, so she turns to walk away. “Good talk.” 

Ever since Oliver and the (relieved) school administration discovered that he had a secret aptitude for English, Felicity’s life has gotten just a bit harder. It also happened to be around the same time that everyone discovered that Felicity -- genius Felicity, who is two grades ahead and takes college credits wherever she can, did not. It horrified her to no end, and Oliver’s relentless reminding did little to make her feel better.

So, yeah, when he tells her that he topped the class with minimal effort, while she had shown Waller three different drafts of her essay and still did worse? It bothers her more than she wants to admit.

She makes it about five steps before he starts again. 

“Smoak! Hey, wait up!” he catches up to her and doesn’t notice when she tries to quicken her pace. “I had more to say, did you know Waller --“ 

“Okay, Oliver! I get it!” She stops in her tracks again. She really didn’t want to blow up at him, but once the words are out of her mouth she can’t stop. “I’m really happy that you’ve found something you’re good at and you’re doing well, but I _really_ would rather not hear about how much less work you did than me and how you still did better. Believe it or not I have much better things to do with my time.” 

She regrets what she says the minute it flies out of her mouth. Not because she said it, but because Oliver has a stunned look on her face that only lasts for a moment before it quickly morphs back into his easy smile. 

“Say Smoak, has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?” 

Felicity takes a deep breath and walks away, fighting the urge to stomp her feet in the process. Oliver doesn’t follow her this time, but she can hear his laughter echoing down the hall.

 

**ii. _I hate the way you drive my car, I hate it when you stare_**

Felicity hates crying in public. 

She also swore to herself that she’d never be one of those people who cried at school. But today, it really can’t be helped. 

She’s just about gotten a hold of herself, only sniffling once or twice, and is about to get up from her spot in a secluded hallway when she hears footsteps approaching. 

Any feeling of sorrow she had is quickly replaced with mortification when, who else, other than Oliver Queen comes into view. 

“Smoak.” It’s not said with the usual teasing tone, this time, his voice is softer. “Um… are you okay?” 

Felicity hops up, giving her eyes one final swipe and plasters on a smile. “I’m fine, Oliver. Just fine. Actually, I was about to leave, so…” she tries to move, but he blocks her way. 

“You were crying just now.” He says, stupidly. “Why were you crying?” 

“It’s nothing, I’m fine.” She moves again, looking down to avoid his eyes. 

“Hey, you know if you need to talk about anything, you can talk to me.” It comes out so soft she has to look up, as though to confirm that it is in fact still Oliver talking to her. The corners of his lips turn up slightly. “What’s bothering you?” 

“You’re just going to laugh at me.” Her voice comes out low and a little more pathetic than she’d like. 

He snorts, because they both know he’s not that big of an asshole. “Tell me anyway.” 

She takes a deep breath. “I heard back from CalTech just now.” Her voice cracks on the name and that’s when she loses it. Horrifyingly, she feels her face crumple. “I didn’t get in.” 

“Oh, hey” he moves closer when the first few tears fall and he brings his hands to rub her shoulders. “I always thought MIT was your dream anyway.” He offers awkwardly. It’s obvious he doesn’t quite know what to say, but he’s making the effort anyway, and she appreciates it more than she’s comfortable. 

She laughs without humor. “It was. It is. But, Oliver, if I can't get into CalTech who's to say I'll get into MIT?" It’s her first time voicing that fear of hers out loud, since she got the email twenty minutes ago and felt her entire future fall apart before her eyes. 

“Felicity,” he moves closer, and _God,_ his eyes are really intense. “You work harder than anyone I know. You’re smarter than anyone I know. You’re also the only person I’ve seen who started applying for colleges at fifteen. If MIT doesn’t want you, _they’re_ the crazy ones.” 

She gives him a small smile, the tears on her face starting to dry up, and whispers, “Thanks.” 

His small smile returns, and if it was anyone other than Oliver, Felicity would say it looks bashful. “It’s nothing. Come on, let’s go.” He grabs her arm and begins walking. 

Her smile melts off and her eyebrows furrow together. “Where are _we_ going?” 

He stops and turns back to her. “Uh, I’m taking you home.” He says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Despite herself, she starts laughing. 

“Oliver, that’s a nice gesture and all, but it’s fine, I brought my mom’s car today, I don’t need a ride.” 

“Okay, well, you, Smoak, are in _no_ condition to drive yourself home right now. Look at you, God, you’re a mess. Come on.” He turns back and moves his hand down from her arm to gently clasping her hand, leading them both to the school’s parking lot. 

It’s an interesting sight, watching Oliver Queen trying to fold his six foot frame in her mom’s Mini Cooper. He grumbles about it enough to bring out a genuine laugh from her, and she appreciates it. In fact, he manages to keep her laughing the entire ride to her place. 

When they stop outside her townhouse, neither of them make a move to get up from their seats. They’re both settling down from Oliver’s terrible sing-along to a pop song playing on the radio. Felicity leans back in her seat and looks at him, and his blue eyes are meet hers with the same intensity from earlier today. He really does have an intense gaze, she never noticed before. 

“Hey, Oliver,” she says softly. 

“Yeah, Smoak?” 

“Why are you being so nice to me?” 

He pauses, she can see the grin on his face tighten slightly before returning to normal. He lifts one shoulder. “Maybe… I don’t like seeing pretty girls like you in pain.” 

 _Right._

It hits her like a bucket of ice water.

This is Oliver Queen, and he has lines like that (and that little speech he fed her earlier today) in spades. 

She can only nod, give a forced smile and thank him for the ride home before shoving out of the car and into her house as fast as she can.

 _God,_ she’s so stupid. For a brief moment there, a part of her felt _special,_ as though the attention he was giving her meant anything. 

Humiliation burns her ears and she’s so wrapped up in her own thoughts she doesn’t hear him calling out for her.

 

 

**iii _… and the way you read my mind_**

“Maybe Smoak is right.”

Everyone in the group freezes. 

It’s been two weeks since Oliver drove Felicity home, and things since that day things between the two have been tenser than ever. They fight over everything, if they aren’t making snarky backhanded comments. There was one memorable incident where Waller had to warn them to keep themselves in check before class. Their one moment together that day after school was, it seems, just one moment. 

All of this is exactly why Felicity is so stunned that Oliver is publicly agreeing with her during a group assignment – something that has never happened. 

“I… okay… so now that that’s settled, why don’t we meet up at the library this weekend to finish this off?” another group member, Iris, offers, probably relieved that they aren’t fighting for the first time. 

Everyone else shuffles away, and only Oliver and Felicity are left at the table. 

He isn’t meeting her eyes, which is new. 

“You agreed with me just now.” It forces him to look up. He mutters _yeah_ and returns to his notes. 

That’s also a first.  Oliver’s made it no secret that if he’s given the option between doing work and not doing work, he’ll always choose the latter. It’s why she can’t stop herself from the next word flying out. 

“Why?” 

“I don’t know, Smoak.” He shrugs, his expression blank. “Maybe I thought it was a good idea. Maybe I felt like it. Maybe I know you better than you think. Maybe I’m just playing a game, like you seem to think I’m always doing.” 

He sighs, then, frustrated with himself for saying so much, probably. He gets up and leaves too, leaving her alone at the table and stunned. 

 _God._ He’s right. He really does know her better than she’s comfortable with. Felicity isn't sure how Oliver knows what she was thinking that day in her car, but damn him. 

It doesn’t feel like a game anymore.

 

 

**iv.** **_I hate you so much it makes me sick –_ **

****

It’s so quiet, in the midst of the loud music and the sound of Felicity’s blood pumping in her ears as she dances that she almost misses it.

“Smoak, what the hell are you doing?” the voice comes in low from behind her, and Oliver sounds… angry? Why is he angry? 

“Oliver!” Felicity turns around, shouting over the music. “I… am… cutting loose, letting go and _enjoying my teenage years_ just like you said.” 

She has a wide grin on her face. He does not reciprocate. But that’s because Oliver’s no fun. 

“I can see that.” He deadpans. “Come on, let’s get you out of here.” 

 _What? Why?_

“Because, I know you’re going to regret this tomorrow.” 

Oh, she said that out loud. 

It takes her a minute to realize he’s gently dragging her by the arm, which she does not appreciate. 

" _Oliver,_ stop.” She demands. “I thought you’d be happy! I’m doing exactly what you asked. This is me,” she gestured wildly around herself, “trying to ‘remove the stick so far up my ass it’s a shock I can even walk straight’”. 

She has to remind him of what he said in front of _everyone_ at school the other day, just in case he forgot. She certainly hasn’t been able to. 

He winces when his own words are thrown back at him. “I shouldn’t have said that.” She nods. “Let me apologize by getting us out of here and somewhere we can talk about it, Smoak.” 

“I’d rather not go anywhere with you right now, Oliver.” 

He presses his lips together, and a part of Felicity can still tell his patience is waning. 

“Fine. Let’s just go outside the house for a few minutes and talk about this, and then I promise you can keep on partying. How’s that sound?” 

She doesn’t want to talk to him. She wants to continue dancing, actually, but she can tell by the look on his face that he won’t let this go until they have this talk. 

She nods and they both make their way to the front of the house, Felicity on less steady feet than she’d like, but Oliver’s leading the way so luckily he doesn’t notice. 

When they finally find a quiet spot on the lawn, he spins around to face her. “Okay. So maybe I was out of line with what I said to you the other day.” He runs a hand through his hair, and for a minute Felicity is distracted. It’s shorter now. He started cutting it shorter recently, she wonders why. “I was annoyed at you and I wasn’t thinking, and I’m sorry.” 

It’s a good apology, she thinks as she watches him shift uncomfortably from foot to foot. At least, it’s better than any other apology she’s gotten out of him before. 

But that doesn’t change how much it hurt. “Damn right you were out of line, Oliver.” She’s perhaps louder than she should be, but she can’t bring herself to care. “You of all people should know why I’m working as hard as I am, and you shouldn’t have said those things about me!” 

“I know,” he says softly, “I know, I regretted it and I’m…“ 

“God, Oliver, do you, though? Sometimes I think you say these things on purpose and don’t mean it when you say you’re sorry and you just –“ 

To her complete and utter mortification, she has to cut herself off, because she’s positive she’s going to vomit _right this second._ Her eyes widen and Oliver reacts, moving closer to her, which is a _bad idea._  

His, “Felicity, are you okay?” barely registers. 

She throws up on his shoes. 

He drives her home and doesn’t mention it again.

 

 

  **v. _I hate the way you’re always right_**

 

When she walks out of the principal’s office and sees Oliver waiting on the bench outside, she almost considers walking back there and facing that hell again

He jumps up when he sees her. She starts walking faster. 

“Hey, Felicity, wait.” 

She rolls her eyes. 

They do this little song and dance too much. 

He catches up to her, because _of course he does,_ and stops her by putting a hand on her shoulder. 

“Hey, Felicity, come on, I just want to talk.” 

“Okay, fine.” Her voice comes out cold, detached, and she’s glad. She can’t handle anymore crying today, and she really doesn’t want to do that in front of Oliver again. “Let’s get this over with. You were right. Rub it in. I know you _love_ being right.” 

He shakes his head. “I wish I wasn’t, Felicity, you know that.” His voice is soft again, and she hates it right now. She can handle him making fun of her, but right now she can’t handle him being nice. 

She takes a deep breath, it comes out shakier than she would like. 

“Are you okay?” she almost laughs at his questions.        

No, okay would not be the word she would use. 

She’s most definitely not okay. She’s angry, hurt, humiliated and all she wants to do is curl up in bed with her laptop and forget the past two weeks even happened. 

Oliver’s presence isn’t helping her right now, since he reminds her of exactly what happened in the beginning. 

It started when she started dating Cooper, and the word slowly got out. She liked Cooper, he was smart and cute and he made her smile. It was the first time in a while she felt connected to someone like she did with him. It was nice to have someone she could talk to about tech and science stuff and have them be able to keep up. He listened to her dreams for MIT (whose letter she was still waiting on) and encouraged her whenever she doubted herself. 

It seemed perfect. 

It only took a week for Oliver to do what he did best: meddle. 

“Felicity.” He approached her one day after school had let out and she was lounging on a bench, waiting for Cooper to come by. “You and this Seldon kid, what’s going on there?”

She almost laughed. “We’re dating, Oliver. What, are you… jealous?” her mood was so great these days, she couldn’t resist poking fun at Oliver. 

“No,” he pressed his lips together. “I think you should be careful with that kid, Felicity.” 

“Why? Is he some secret hardened criminal and I don’t know about it?” she laughed at her own joke. Oliver let out a frustrated sigh and ran his hand through his closely cropped hair. 

“Felicity, I’m being serious here.” He sat on the bench. “I don’t like the vibe I was getting off this guy, I never have. And you should hear the way he was talking about you when you weren’t around.” 

“What, did he twirl his mustache and brag to his friends about how he’s going to steal my virtue?” she drew out sarcastically, feeling annoyed at this point. Really, they weren’t close but couldn’t he be a little happy for her? 

“No Felicity! It’s not that. God, if you would just listen for —“ he stopped. “You know what? Forget it. Nothing I say will make you believe me anyway. Hope you guys are happy together.” He pushed himself off the bench and stormed off, shaking his head as he walked. 

She watched him leave, confused. She hadn’t ever seen him get so worked up over something like that before. 

She had no time to dwell on it, though, because Cooper snaked his arms around her from behind and effectively erased any thoughts of Oliver.

And now, she stands, having spent the past two hours with the principal, her guidance counselor and her computer science teacher, trying to convince them all that she didn’t let Cooper cheat off her work, that he stole parts of her assignment without her knowledge.

It isn’t easy convincing a room of people who are adamant in explaining that, because she was a teenage girl, it just made sense that she gave her work to Cooper, she wanted to impress him.

Absolutely ridiculous.

On top of all of it, she has Oliver here. Who warned her. Who waited for her. Who wants to know if she’s okay.

Damn him, really.

She takes a deep breath, and the last half of her day starts to catch up with her as she feels a lump growing in her throat. He moves closer to her and she really, _really_ wishes he wouldn’t do that.

“Felicity,” he says softly.

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you when you tried to warn me.” She croaks out.

“Hey,” he finally moves closer, placing his hands on her shoulders. “None of that. How are you doing?”

She lets out a watery laugh. “Oh, you know, found out my first real boyfriend was a lying, cheating dick. Tried to make sure I don’t get suspended. Just another week.”

“You don’t need to joke about it with me, Felicity, you know that, right?” he says, it’s one of those moments where he looks at her so _intensely_ she has to catch her breath. She nods, and in return he gives a small smile.

“Good, now come on.” He gives one of her shoulders a slight nudge. “I could really go for a burger right now, how’s that sound to you?”

She smiles back. “Sounds perfect.”

“Awesome, then let’s get going, Smoak, I haven’t got all day.”

She can’t stop smiling at him as they make their way towards his car.

“What are you looking at me like that for?” he teases.

“You’re being nice to me again.” She observes, her voice is still small and tired from the rest of the day.

“I know. It’s starting to become a habit around you, Smoak.” His voice is light, but she can’t help but wonder.

****

 

**vi. _I hate it when you lie_**

 

They kiss on a Friday night, a month after the Cooper incident.

 _This is probably a bad idea,_ she thinks right before it happens. _We’ve only just become friends and I really like having him around and this could screw everything up._ But he’s leaning in and her lips are parted and none of those things matter. 

She meets him halfway and they kiss right outside of a frozen yogurt shop and it’s _everything._ His free hand moves to cup her cheek and she sighs when he tugs slightly on her lower lip. She’s just about to move her own hand up when he pulls away.

She’s smiling when she opens her eyes, only the expression on his face makes her frown.

It’s one of regret.

“Felicity,”

Oh no.

“That was a mistake.”

She’s such an idiot.

“It has nothing to do with you, it’s about me. I’m not…”

She laughs. Out loud.

“Oh my god, Oliver. If you regret doing that, it’s fine. You don’t need to throw that stupid line in my face.” Her face is burning up now, she feels embarrassed, and she decides she doesn’t want to stand around for this. She takes a step back.

 **vii. _(I hate it when you make me laugh – even worse when you make me cry_** **_)_ **

“No, hey, Felicity.” He moves an arm out to stop her from leaving. “You’re not listening to me. That’s not what I meant.”

“What else could you possibly mean, Oliver?” her voice cracks, but she’s been embarrassed enough as it is in the past five minutes to care.

“It means,” he pauses and takes a deep breath, scrubbing a hand over his face. “This isn’t how it was supposed to happen. Felicity, because of… my life… who I am and what I have to do… I don’t think I can be with you.”

The first few tears fall, she’s done fighting them.

“I don’t think I can be with you,” he repeats. “Not today, maybe not for a long time.”

“Right.” She says, wiping some of the tears that landed on her cheeks, the feeling of rejection stinging. “Well, I don’t like the idea of maybe. Bye, Oliver.”

Dignity half intact and her heart feeling heavy, she leaves him standing under the streetlamp.

 

 

**viii. _I hate it when you’re not around_**

 

A month passes after The Kiss That Shall Not Be Named and Felicity realizes how much she let Oliver Queen into her life in the past little while. Figures that she has to find this out the hard way.

School becomes mostly awkward, since they avoid each other as much as they can, but the place is only so big and they share more classes than they’d like. Others start to notice their weirdness, but thankfully nobody knows about what happened (Oliver and her, it seems, have a silent agreement to keep this incident to themselves. Judging by the look of confusion on the faces of his best friends Tommy and John, he really hasn’t told anyone. It’s a little surprising.)

The truth is, she misses him. A lot. She didn’t quite realize how much time they started spending together, and how much that increased after the Cooper thing, but now that he’s not around she feels it more and more.

It takes her a little bit of getting used to, the realization that whatever small friendship she was building with Oliver has effectively been diminished. It happens when she catches someone talking about baseball on the radio and wonders if he’s heard about it, or what he’d have to say. Or, when she’s in the mall and catches a glimpse of someone with short cropped blonde hair and it makes her pause for a second.

Reminders of Oliver are everywhere.

It drives Felicity crazy.

So much so that she tries to provoke him in class, just like she used to, prodding at him when they get put together for group work or purposefully disagreeing with him during discussion. He doesn’t take the bait, if anything he simply acts cordial with her and moves on. It’s strange and she hates it.

Oh, she knows it’s partially her fault. They were both involved in that kiss, and she’s the one who walked away.

But still. She misses him, is that a crime?

 

 **ix.** **_And the fact that you didn’t call_ **

****

It takes two weeks for that feeling of missing him turn into anger.

Because, really, this is ridiculous.

So, one Friday night, she takes a little bit of her mom’s wine and twirls the MIT letter she found in the mail today (admission with full ride scholarship, one of their youngest acceptances, _fuck you CalTech_ ). Then, she picks up her phone and does something stupid.

She calls Oliver.

(When did she start doing all these cliché things?)

It rings out, and finally she gets his voicemail.

Idly, she wonders if anyone even checks their voicemail anymore as she starts talking. “Oliver, hi. I got into MIT today. I guess you were right. I don’t know why I wanted to tell you. But I did. So… there.”

It takes her five seconds of talking to come to her senses and she hangs up.

He doesn’t ever call her back. She figures he doesn’t check his voicemail after all. At least, that’s easier to accept than the alternative.

 

****

**x. _But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you_**

****

The end of the year comes and goes. Felicity graduates, it feels mostly anticlimactic. She skipped out on prom in favor of working (full ride or not, Cambridge isn’t cheap). Before she knows it, it’s August and she’s packing the most important contents of her life from the past sixteen years into boxes to start on her new chapter. She’s excited to forget everything about Starling City, including one infuriating billionaire.

Well, the last one will be a little hard. Tommy Merlyn made it no secret when Oliver’s Harvard acceptance letter came in during the spring.

(There was a party. Felicity didn’t go, of course, but she heard it got pretty out of hand.)

She tells herself she doesn’t care where he’s going to be in the fall. She only hopes that Boston isn’t one of those places that is big _and_ small, where you somehow always run into people you know.

Knowing her luck, though, she probably will see him more than she’d like.

She shakes those thoughts away as she reaches to turn her music up and returns to folding some of her clothes. _New chapter, no more thinking about the old._

Of course, nothing ever seems to go to plan anyway. Felicity realizes this when the doorbell rings and she goes to find who else but Oliver waiting at her door?

**_(– not even close.)_**

When she sees him standing on her front steps, Felicity is speechless. “Oliver!” is all she’s able to blurt out. It’s the first thing she’s said to him in months.

“Hi, Felicity,” he responds.

“I… What are you doing here?” it’s one of those frustrating moments where she needs _words_ but her brain is failing her.

He opens his mouth and closes it a few times (it brings Felicity a weird sense of joy to know that words are failing him just as much as they are her) before finally settling on, “I probably have some explaining to do.”

In the mood to be difficult, all Felicity does is raise an eyebrow.

(She’s well aware that she’s making him hover at her door instead of inviting him in, but that’s another thing altogether)

“Do you remember that day… When we kissed and I told you that it was a mistake…” she nods. “So maybe I was wrong.”

“Oliver,” she closes her eyes and pinches the bridge of her nose. “You’re doing it again.”

“Sorry. I _was_ wrong. I shouldn’t have said what I did. I lied, when I said that it was a mistake, and that I couldn’t be with you.”

“So what’s the truth, then?” she knows where he’s going, but, _God,_ she needs him to say it.

“The truth?” He takes a deep breath.

**_(Not even a little bit,)_ **

“God, Felicity. The truth is this. I don’t regret kissing you. My only regret is that I didn’t do it sooner. The truth is that I want to be with you so bad it kills me. The truth is that I’ve always thought you were amazing, and beautiful and kind and smart and funny...” He’s rambling now. If she wasn’t so mad she’d think it was endearing. “But I could never find it in me to _do something about it_. I didn’t think there was a chance in hell that you would care for being with someone like me. The truth is it scares the hell out of me. Actually, _you_ scare the hell out of me and I just –“

She cuts him off by getting on her toes and pressing her lips against his. His response is immediate, as he places his hands on her hips and draws her closer.

When she pulls back, they lean their foreheads against one another.

“Hey Queen,” she whispers, a small smile spreading over her lips, “has anyone ever told you that you talk too much?”

**_(not even at all.)_ **

                                                                  

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Any feedback would be much appreciated. If you liked this, consider checking out my other works.
> 
> tumblr - overwatchandarrow  
> twitter - @smoakoverwatch


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